Chapter 4: Supper with Adelaide

Adelaide Holloway lived in a gray stone house on Lake of the Isles, and she opened the door herself.

She was about the size of a fire hydrant, with cropped white hair and a cane topped with a brass duck.

Her cardigan was buttoned one hole off, and I had the feeling it was on purpose.

"You're the fiancée," she said.

"I'm Dinah."

"You're thinner than I expected." She looked at Jasper. "Where did you find her?"

"She quit her job in front of me, Grandmother."

"Good. Come in, both of you. The soup is tomato and the sandwiches are cheese, and I won't apologize."

The kitchen was yellow and small and smelled of butter.

We sat at a round table with three bowls, and Adelaide ate with great speed and no ceremony.

"Show me your hand," she said.

I held it out.

She turned the sapphire in the light and squinted at it.

"That was my mother-in-law's. She'd have said you wear it like someone afraid of scratching it."

"I am afraid of scratching it."

"Don't be. It's survived worse than you."

She let go and tapped her cane on the floor.

"Jasper, go and find the Riesling in the cellar. The one with the green label."

"We don't have a green label."

"Then find one," Adelaide said. "Take your time."

He looked at me, and I nodded, and he went.

We listened to him go down the stairs.

Adelaide folded her hands on the table.

"Now," she said. "What do you want out of this?"

"Dessert," I said.

She blinked, and then she laughed, a dry bark.

"Try again."

"I'm not after your money, Mrs. Holloway."

"I didn't think you were. Try once more."

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